


The Dragon Thief

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AFAB, Dragon sex, F/M, Female Reader, Transform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: It all started with some missing laundry.  Who knew where it would lead?
Relationships: Hanzo Shimada/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 142





	The Dragon Thief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLoveHanzoMoreThanSleep/gifts), [Rangrid](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Rangrid).



It started with your missing pair of lace panties.

You normally wouldn’t have noticed a missing pair, but this was the pretty lace thong that matched your absolutely best bra and the satiny camisole that you bought yourself as a set for your last birthday. You loved that set—it was in the most flattering shade and seemed so feminine and beautiful. If was the set you wore on first dates and every Valentine’s Day—even when you were celebrating alone. It had also cost a mint and you couldn’t just replace it on your salary.

You frowned as you went through your laundry again, but the panties were missing. There was no way you’d miss them, but you went through all of your baskets again. You even went through your load of uniforms. You growled and began going through your socks, your pants, your...everything.

“Missing something?”

You whirled to see Hanzo standing at a dryer, pulling out his pile of dark clothes into a wicker basket. While Overwatch apartments were large for base housing, they did not have private laundry hookups in them. So, everyone came to the laundromat in their building. You flushed as he looked at you evenly, expecting an answer.

“Err...I—. Uhh....” Your cheeks turned red. How were you to explain a missing thong to him? “I.... Never mind.”

He looked at you with a pleasantly interested expression. You had no ready answer that didn’t involve a lot of uncomfortable things, so you piled all of your clean laundry into your basket and went past him with a reddened face.

That was...an annoying loss. You searched online for a replacement and—of course—there were none to be had. You ordered the closest match and hoped it was close enough. Finally, you resolved to put it out of your mind until you had a chance to search the little hamper of found clothes in the laundromat. It would not be the first time you searched through the little hamper and found missing socks or whatnot—but this would be the first time you were looking for your thong.

It wasn’t there either.

You growled irritably and stomped back to your apartment. And now you left your door to your apartment open. You closed the door behind you and began sorting out what chores needed doing. It was apparently going to be one of those days.

That afternoon, you sat in the staff meeting, listening to reports and mission plans. The commanders used this time to get status and updates and they always concluded on what they termed a “high note”. The “high note” was first who was coming out of medical leave, then who was having a birthday and then who was going on vacation.

You weren’t really paying attention until you heard Hanzo’s name mentioned. Your ears perked up to hear that he was taking a few days off. That was interesting enough—you wondered where he was going over the five or six days he would be gone. He was an outcast and demonized in Japan as a yakuza traitor, so it was likely that he would be going somewhere else, but honestly you had no idea where he might go.

You shrugged idly, doodling on your pad of paper. You were currently sketching a rather cartoony dragon with long lashes and a silly bow around its neck. It was a silly sketch you had been fiddling with and you didn’t have any desire for anyone to see it. You had downloaded the beginning outline, adding to it bit by bit as you sat through these plodding meetings. As soon as you were dismissed, you covered it up. Ducking your head, you tried to shoulder your way out of the conference room.

You went to your apartment at the end of the day. You didn’t mind the cafeteria food as a general rule, but you did like fixing your favorite dishes in your apartment. You thought you were a pretty decent cook. Not cooking competition great, but good enough that you were generally invited to potlucks to bring your dishes.

You went to your kitchen and gathered your ingredients. Setting out the pot and rattling the pans, you began to chop the vegetables. This soothed you on some elemental level—the endless rituals of preparing meals that were tasty and nourishing. It made you feel warm and connected to your mother who taught you to cook, to your grandmother who taught your mother and your grandfather who taught you to grill meat, to everyone for the ages past that did exactly this.

That was when you heard something clang to the floor. You jumped a little and saw the heavy hangar on the floor. Picking it up, you frowned. This was supposed to be in your bedroom, with your favorite blouse on it. Had you picked it up this morning? Moved it? No—it should be in the closet with your best party blouse on it.

And when you opened your closets put the hangar back, you noticed that your blouse was missing. It wasn’t anywhere—even when you looked through your laundry. Now this was annoying—you knew that blouse was there. It wasn’t like it just walked out.

You went back to your kitchen to turn off everything. As stupid as it was, you needed to get to the bottom of this mess. You looked everywhere—under the bed, under the chairs, in the bathroom, in every nook and cranny you could think of. 

You were just about to scream when you found the strangest thing—a pair of black men’s boxers. You growled and looked at the tag and blinked at the characters on the tag. You read neither Chinese nor Japanese nor anything else.

Flushed and pissed with the world in general, you snatched them up. Maybe—you hoped—it was a matter of missing laundry. The archer had been doing laundry at the same time. Maybe he would know where any of your missing clothes were.

If you hadn’t been so angry, you might not have done more than dumped the...underwear in the found clothes hamper. If you hadn’t been hacked at the world in general, you might have been more aware of your surroundings. If you hadn’t been concentrating on anything and everything else, then you would have noticed all the warning signs.

You pounded on his door. Of course, he did not answer. You pounded it again. “Hanzo! Open up.” Your nose tickled with some unfamiliar scent—maybe the incense he always seemed to have burning. You didn’t care. “Come on—I have something of yours.”

You felt a strange feeling in your belly, surrounded by the warm scent. You were going to give it up when you noticed the fragrance getting stronger. It was almost choking you, making you feel restless and twitchy, as the deadbolt unlocked.

He poked his head around the cracked door from the dark apartment beyond. His eyes were warm and...you would have sworn that they weren’t that light before. Instead of coffee dark, they were lit up with golden flecks. He seemed to have a light sheen of sweat that made his skin sparkle.

You flushed and waved the underwear at him. “Are these yours?”

He blinked and grinned, making your skin prickle with his demonic smirk filled with white fangs. “Come in, kireina.” He stepped back, pulling the door opened just a bit more. “I believe that they are.”

You groaned in embarrassment and waved them at him again. “Just...take them.”

“Come in.” He smirked and took another half step back. “I believe that I have something for you as well.”

Your cheeks turn red. “Things must have gotten muddled in the laundry,” you muttered. “Just....”

He muttered something you didn’t quite hear and you moved closer to him. “Sorry...I didn’t catch that.”

Your next step took you to the open doorway. More of the incense poured out and it made you feel lightheaded as you stood there. You grew more irritated as he delayed, hiding back in the dark apartment. Finally you tossed them inside his doorway. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy your vacation!”

You turned away to go back to your place when you felt him grab you. Except—it couldn’t have been him. The hand on your shoulder was far too large and—as you turned to look at it—clawed?!

The next thing you knew, you were yanked inside the dark apartment. The clawed hand gripped your shoulder and you were going to scream when the other one crossed your mouth. “Silence is golden,” he whispered softly.

You whined, too startled to scream or cry. You couldn’t see more than shifting slight shadows and so you felt and heard everything to some absurd degree. The hands holding you were large and bulky and felt like they were clawed. A few small flames flickered in lamps or in paper lanterns, but the light from them was little more than small puddles. There was a small collection of tiny smoking embers and you were startled to realize that they were thin sticks of incense. The intense scent made you feel faint, made you start to weave as you stood there.

You trembled to feel him stepping forward, his heat against your back. Was he wearing leather armor? Or was it sparring gear? Whatever it was, it felt foreign and flexible against your back. He was so hot, too—practically burning your skin. It made you feel feverish and lethargic, as though you were ill.

There were warm puffs of air against your skin, making it prickle. There was a scent in the air that made your knees shake the more you breathed it in. Your core clenched to feel one of those huge hands trace down your body and then push gently between your legs. It trembled and hesitantly pushed a little further until the tip was right where that damning slick was starting to gather.

“You have come to me,” Hanzo purred. At least, you thought it was Hanzo even though the voice was far deeper and grittier than you remembered. “In my time of need, you have come to me.”

“W-w-what?!” you gasped.

His fingers trailed up to your waist again and began tracing the suddenly sensitive curves underneath your breasts. “You have come to me in my time of need.” The very tip of his tongue traced along your neck. “I might believe in miracles now.”

You twisted and shook as his hands moved over your body restlessly. Without seeing you—how could anyone find anything in this dark?—his fingers found your zippers, your buttons. Unerringly, he began peeling your clothes off. With every tracing touch, more skin was exposed and even the warm air in his apartment felt cool enough to make your skin prickle. Your mouth was dry and you couldn’t think for a moment as your mouth gaped open.

Immediately, he was there, stepping forward to press you against the wall as his mouth found yours. He tasted of mint and tea and something else you couldn’t quite name. Your hands went to tug on his wrists and pull them away, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite do more than stroke the bumpy, leathery stuff covering his wrists. What on earth could it be? Perhaps it was some kind of foreign wrist guard for archery? But they went up to his elbow at least as your fingers kept stroking up.

“Curious like a cat,” he whispered against your lips. “Come and find out more, eh?” One huge hand went to your hip and pulled your leg to his waist. “Hold on to me. I am strong enough for the both of us.”

There was a warm, cloth covered ridge right there between your legs. The tip seemed more pronounced and you realized that there was only one thin layer of cloth between you and him. That made you shiver wantonly and your arms went around his neck to steady yourself.

“Come to me, pretty one,” he whispered softly. “My nest is not far.”

“N-n-nest?” you gasped.

He tugged on your other leg until both of them were wrapped around his hips. He must have been wearing some kind of new armor because more of that bumpy and leathery stuff was under your legs. But then he picked you up and swung you around as if you were a child. You yelped in confusion as he began walking through the darkness.

“What are you doing?” you whined against his neck. “Where are you taking me?”

“My nest is not that far,” he replied with a chuckle. “We are there now.”

You were lowered onto... something. It was thick and soft—you sank into it. There were pillows all around you in all kinds of shapes and sizes. You could feel a tassel at a corner, a soft round bolster. There was a silky quilt underneath you with swirls and curls in the thread. Your feet slid over the silk and underneath a pillow and then into another pile of pillows. It seemed to have no end as you swept your arms out and could find no edge or end.

There was a soft sound and you felt a rush of air as fabric dropped to the ground. Then Hanzo knelt on the corner of the plush bedding. “Stretch out, little one. The next is big enough for two.”

You couldn’t quite grasp what he meant by ‘nest’, but you did roll halfway and even then your fingers could only barely graze the edges. The soft pile sank as he crept closer and you shivered and rolled back towards the vague middle. His fingers came back, plucking lightly at your skin and stroking up and down. If you had been a harp laying down in front of him, your body would be singing as those long fingers trailed up and down.

He was a furnace in the shadows and dark and he constantly trailed tickling kisses and gentle touches up and down. In this nest, you could barely feel him moving around. Even when he pulled away and returned, you could barely feel any dips or ridges in the soft pile around you. When he laid down beside you again, you felt his huge body almost against you.

A silky quilt was pulled up to your waist. You heard some shuffling, felt the pile shift under you, and then a strong arm underneath your shoulders, helping you sit up. A long hand holding a hot drink appeared in front of you. In your ear, he whispered, “Something to drink.”

You took the cup. It was a smooth, warm ceramic cup with no handles and—in the dark—no pattern. You took a sip and it was hot and sweet and warm cinnamon and nutmeg notes and had some kind of exotic citrus or caramel after flavor. It soothed your throat, warmed your whole body. Then you felt a rush in your body as if you had a strong drink, but there was no biting sting from alcohol on your tongue.

He had gotten to his feet again, without you noticing and you saw a huge, hulking silhouette blocking a meager match’s light. It was a well formed, muscular shadow too, as he lit a cone of incense and then another. The tip of the cone glowed for a moment before puffing our and beginning to release a stream of fragrant smoke.

You kept sipping the drink, watching as he shook the match and it blew out. You sipped again, your mind suddenly filled with images of a shadowed cock, strong muscles and a sudden, inexplicable urge to lay back wantonly. It made your head swim in a pleasantly warm way but the incense befuddled you more.

“A warm, fragrant night,” he purred as he laid down again beside you. “And you and I will spend it together, yes?”

“Yes,” you whispered back. You drank the last of the tea or whatever it was and let him whisk the cup away. “But what happens now?”

He chuckled, pressing his chest against your back. “What happens now?” he repeated in a low, sure tone. “That is an interesting question.” A low kiss brushed your bare shoulder. “We will have to find an answer for it.”

Strong arms cradled you as he slid closer. “You are a miracle. You are my miracle—to come so close to my time of need.” His long tongue slid along your neck. “And you are here at last.”

He rolled you over and settled between your legs. Fingers stroked along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, followed by heated kisses. You could barely take in a deep breath as he pushed forward to blow a long breath against the tight curls right there. You tried to yelp as his tongue slid between your folds, but it came out as a moan instead.

The flick brushed against your tight nerves and made you buck. He did it again and your hands went weaving down to his head. You found a smooth slide of hair you imagined was inky black. No... it felt black like a smooth, silky puddle of warm ink going through your fingers. He knew what he was doing and pressed further to push a fingertip against your wet.

You groaned and bucked against the pressure and suddenly felt a prick. Yelping in surprise, your hands went to push his head away. You were expecting warm skin and hair, but your fingers found something else entirely. It was the one thing that could have startled you away from that sharp prick in an area that had been so pleasantly warm and tingling with pleasure.

Your fingers hit something smooth and cool and... hard and curved. Immediately, you were curious, but whether that was because it was so amazingly strange or because you were so strangely drunk, you wouldn’t know.

“Breathe,” he whispered. “Just breathe.”

You nodded although you couldn’t see him, let alone be sure whether he saw you. You took in a deep breath, held it, and released it. Then your fingers were back there, feeling the curved hardness. It wasn’t wood because there were no grains. It was too warm and organic feeling to be metal. It was too strange, curving in such a graceful way that made you think of a majestic buck or—strangely—the curves of elven carvings in movies.

“Just breathe,” he said again. “Come, little one. Am I so strange to you?”

“Wh-wh-what?”

“Come here. Do not be afraid. I will not.. bite,” he chuckled softly. “Not unless you want me to, of course.”

You sat up lazily and went to him. He was there, warm and strong. There was more of that strange texture—like leather or something. As your fingers trailed down his chest, you felt wide strips that were bordered by gradually smaller and smaller things. You halfway expected him to have sandpaper textures, but it smoothed out into warmth and that unfamiliar bumpy feeling.

Your hands went up his chest and back to his hair. It was long and loose and flowed down his shoulders. You went further up to the top of his head and found those long, curving... were they horns? That cleared up some of your brain fog and made your curiosity burn brighter. They were long and curved over his head and had smooth two small branches off each one. At first you thought that they were some kind of odd hair thing—like one of those headbands with the cat ears on it—but as you trailed back down, you found that they met with warm locks of hair and then smooth scalp.

“Horns. You... have horns?” You nodded to yourself. You would never get a drink with the archer again. Obviously you fell asleep and the unfamiliar drink or the incense or something you ate last night was giving you weird dreams. “You have horns.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled. You felt him nod, the curves of the horns tugging against your palms. “I have horns.

“Or rather, antlers. They are attached to me.” He let out a chuckle and nuzzled the soft skin closest to him. You gasped to feel a brush of coarse hair along his jaw. “But they are sensitive. I can feel your touch.” His smile was evident in his voice. “And it pleases me. Never doubt that it pleases me.”

Your hands shook and went back to trailing up and down the antlers. It made him purr and his hands came to curve around your waist and hips. Then there was a gruffer sound and he pressed harder against you. His hands gripped you again and your hands began exploring him more and more.

“You have... what?” You gasped and began tracing his fingers with your own. “You feel like you’re in armor. Scaled armor?” You shook your head anxiously. “Are you in armor?”

He laughed shortly. “My sweet little kitten—I am not in armor. Do you see? I am.... I am... not human.” His hands guided your hands to his face, to the back of his neck. You felt a line of bumps along his spine, and more of the bumpy skin. “I am a dragon.”

It made your body go limp, lay down on the soft padding beneath you. And your stroking plotted his features now—a long series of rounded protrusions along his spine, the antlers curving over his head, the scales you could feel now that you knew what they were, the talons curved like a raptor’s, the sudden novelty of a long and sinuous tail trailing down behind him. Maybe there was something in that drink or in the incense, but as you found more and more that was different, there was more that made you curious.

He laid you down fully, and began licking you again. His tongue flicked in and out rapidly, just grazing you as it slid in and out. He still had a stiff brush of coarse hair along his chin and just over his lips. His form was more or less humanoid, but his muscular lines were more sleek and curved. His tail was a few feet long, and coiled along your leg in a sensuous way.

“Breathe deeply,” Hanzo murmured again. “You will see that I am not so strange to you.”

You did and that lovely heady feeling rushed through your skull again. It was like breathing some kind of heady stuff. It loosened your muscles, eased your mind. He still was gently stroking you, concentrating on making your pleasure complete. Every time that you gasped, he let out a smooth and pleased sound and did it again.

Tears went to your eyes as you felt him settle between your legs. Again, he leaned over and went back to lapping your folds. His fingers with their raptor claws would not go in, but instead he rubbed your core and your tight clit. It was just enough—just rough enough and just smooth enough—that it made you gasp and writhe.

Hanzo rolled you over gently. You put your hips up a bit, curling your spine and offering him your sopping core. On his knees behind you, he kept stroking up and down your spine in gentle touches that made you arch like a cat. Then he reached underneath you to palm your breasts and pluck at your nipples.

You mewed at him and he laughed softly, “My sweet kitten. I cannot resist your sweet sounds.”

You felt the meaty, smooth tip at your core. With uncertain wobbles, you pushed against it and gasped to feel the thick length start to enter you. He let out a hiss and let his claws gently scratch down your skin. Every nerve was alive with the not quite scratching and it made your oversensitive skin practically ripple with joy.

You rocked slowly, feeling him slowly come forward and then go back a little deeper each time. There was something superbly sweet, some slight variation of the hot textures or the curvature or something that were more thrilling and sent chills down your spine. He was so careful, so cautious, as he rocked in tandem with you.

Then there was the hard stop of hip meeting hip. As deep as he could go and filling you completely. He purred and patted your hip gently, crooning as you settled on the mattress. You arched your back, which made him smile in the dark. “You are a sweet and tempting kitten. A soft, so soft, lover in the night.”

“More,” you croaked out. You clawed briefly at the exotic covers beneath you, feeling the pleasure pulse through you. “Just more....”

He bucked harder, making the feeling spark and jump in your belly. “I will give you more—this time.” You whined and bucked up against him. “Ahhh... I see I will have a hard time not spoiling you.”

There was a high sound of frustration from you but then a long silence as he began pushing faster and faster. You whined and bucked back against him. He chuckled again and kept going. You bit your lip as the speed made you curl tighter and tighter. You bucked again and felt him push you down further down.

Hanzo groaned aloud to feel your core grip him even more tightly. “My sweet kitten....”

Flames licked your skin as he traced your skin with his claws. Unexpectedly, you stumbled and collapsed against the nest. He was right there, his arms steadying you as he pulled back and helped you lay down. You spun and laid down on your back, gripping his hips with your legs to pull him closer. Closer and closer until he slid back in you and his furnace hot body was on top of yours.

“Careful, my sweet. Do not rush something so precious.” His lips wrapped around your nipples, suckling them in turns, until you were whining and bucking against him. “There is plenty of time.”

You were going to whine, to protest, but he simply kept a steady rhythm of bucking against you. Then he switched to a smooth rocking and nibbling your ears and lower lip. When you rolled your hips impatiently, he pounded in and out just a little faster.

His tail stroked underneath your feet, along your calves, as his knuckle hit your clit. You wailed as he kept stroking and thrusting. His nose scraped along your neck then and when he bit down on your neck, you screamed as all of the tightness inside you burst into flame. You bucked up in a frenzy as the sparks rained down over you. Suddenly, he thrust down and hard and you felt the hardness under the mound of softness.

He let out a growl that was never a human sound. You felt a rush of fire and sparks as he howled and you saw a burst of blue sparks that lit up the darkened room. There was a pulsing rush as the sparks faded and his body shivered. Immediately, he curled over you, landing on his arms as sweat rolled off him.

He panted heavily above you as he nuzzled your skin with his chin. His skin was scented with your tangy slick and his own musk as he brushed a kiss to your skin. “How perfect you are, kitten.”

Unexpectedly, he backed away, pulling out from your body. Instantly he was practically a disembodied voice in the darkness. “You need to rest, yes?” You whimpered as the last electric shocks of pleasure trailed down your nerves. “Drink this and it will restore you.”

Like magic, another cupful of that sweet, hot drink was in his hands and being passed to you. You drank it gratefully in noisy gulps that made him chuckle. “Thank you.”

He plucked the empty cup from your palm and then pushed you down on the blankets. You yawned widely and stretched, still amused at the width and length of this padded area. There were pillows in every direction and soft cloth or quilts over it all. You tugged at a corner of a quilt and pulled it over you.

“You need a rest,” he purred as his bulk went around you. “We will be up again soon enough.”

“Why?” you asked softly.

There was warmth around you now. Reaching out with blind fingers, you found a long serpentine shape around you that was warm and muscular. It was strange, like a dizzy and impossible dream, to feel the smooth scales going from where your shoulder had been up over your head and down again where the tail curled just about a foot or so from where your toes had been.

“You’re... a... dragon?”

“I told you so,” he chuckled wryly. There was a twitch of the scales when you rubbed up to his head and you felt individual scalloped edges under your fingertips. “Did you truly think I would lie about the truth?”

That made you fall backwards onto the pile. “B-b-but... I thought—?!”

“I am a dragon,” he purred, rolling again and smirking in the dark as you gasped to feel the entire area rumble. “And you are my treasure.” You opened your mouth with a little gasp. “Now, rest, my sweet.”

You closed your eyes, but your mind was still on fire with questions. “Are you going to leave?”

“Ehh? No... I have no intention of leaving.” Hanzo’s large head raised up and you sort of sensed a long neck and huge head raising up. Or maybe you imagined it. “What would make you ask such a thing?”

“You... you are on leave for several days. Are you leaving?” You crawled up to the lean body and laid against it. The scales felt a bit cooler, as if leather was covering a fireball. “Why are you going?”

He sighed and the feel of it was a shudder. “Little one—you truly do not know what is happening?”

“You.. are a dragon.”

“You have much to learn,” he purred. The coil of flash around you wrapped into a tighter circle. “I will tell you as much as I can as we have time. For now, I will tell you that I am not like you or any other human.

“As a dragon, I do not have the.... That is, I have cycles of times that I am a dragon and that I am not. And during those cycles, I feel a dragon’s urges. A dragon’s lust and appetites.” He gave you a nudge and a purr. “It cannot be helped, I suppose. There is a time for everything.”

“But... what is happening, now?”

“It is my time.” He gave you a wry chuckle and added, “I suppose you could call it my ‘time of the month’ if you wanted to be sarcastic about it. But now, I must become a dragon and live as a dragon and do things as a dragon.

“I will be fine in a few days—so I took the leave. Afterwards, I return to being an Overwatch agent. In the meantime, I am in a rut—.”

“A rut? Like a...?”

“There is no specific word for it in your language. It is not a ‘heat’ like you would understand from any other animal, but it is my time to be fertile and to seek a mate. It is my time to bond, if I can, with one who I will spend my life with.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“I chose you.”

“Me?! Why? What made me so special?”

“Because you are brave and strong. Because you are witty and you make me laugh. Because I find you adorable, and trusting, and everything that I thought was lost in the world.” He laugh was strong and warm. “Because you believe in me—even when I tell you something that you believe to be impossible. Because you are not the sort to go around chopping bits of me off and trying to make cures from them—.”

“What?! Oh my—what the hell?!”

“Dragons all over the world.... We are potentially the source of great healing. And humans will pay dearly for that healing.” His voice dipped into a sad tone. “Many good dragons have died from humans trying to take what would have been given if asked.”

You shook your head and leaned against the wall of flesh. “That’s so sad. I... I would never do that you. I do not even know... how that stuff works.”

He nodded slowly and shook a bit with a strange rattle of scales. “Some of it is obvious, and some isn’t. Our tears will enhance things like health packs, help make their affects more profound. Our strength gives others strength—in an area. A dragon’s claws can be ground and form a poultice to relieve plant based poisons. There must be a hundred or thousand things that a dragon’s body can be used for.”

“And dragons died because of it.”

“Many did. Some lived. But we are careful—more careful—now. We trust few. We cannot afford to trust like we used to. The old families that knew and respected dragons are fading and we must now try to find new lands to flourish in.”

He paused thoughtfully and wrapped closer around you. “I am an anachronism. A remnant of time gone by. I am doubly blessed, though. I have found you.” He nudged you down until you were laying down quite comfortably. “And that, my sweet, is twice the blessing.”

“And the... the rut?”

“It will be several days... just like this. And we will get to know each other.”


End file.
